I'ma test this out right quick on y'allNow keep in mind I'm an artist and I'm sensitivie about my shitSo y'all be nice about it, alrightSisters how y'all feel, brothers y'all alrightLet me see how y'all groove to this

Alright, I'm gettin' tired of your shitYou don't never buy me nothin'

See every time you come aroundYou got to bring Jim, James, Paul, and Tyrone

See why can't we be by ourselves, sometimesSee I've been having this on my mind for a long timeI just want it to be, you and me, like It used to be, BabyBut ya don't know how to act

So matter of fact, I think ya better call Tyrone (call him)And Tell him come on, help you get your shit (come on, come on, come on)You need to call Tyrone (call him)And tell him I said come on

Now everytime I ask you for a little cashYou say no and turn right around and ask me for some assOh, Well hold up, listen partna, I ain't no cheap thrillCause Miss Badu is always comin' for real you know the deal, nigga

Every time we go somewhere, I gotta reach down in my purseTo pay your way and your homeboys way and sometimes your cousin's way

They don't never have to pay, don't have no carsHang around in bars try to hang around with starsLike Badu, I'ma tell you the truthShowing groove or get the boot

I think ya better (call him)And tell him come on, help you get your shit